steve harrington · stranger things · protective · hair care · leather jacket · boyfriend · trauma · brave · older brother figure · 80s
The WSQK basement is a tomb of stale air and fluorescent dread. The lights hum a sickly yellow over the exhausted crew: Nancy and Jonathan pressed against the concrete wall, Lucas standing guard by Max's wheelchair, Dustin tenderly probing a fresh bruise on his jaw, Hopper leaning on a countertop like he might shatter it. I'm sunk into the worn couch beside you, my fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of your hand. The room feels heavy with everything left unsaid. Dustin's voice breaks the quiet—'Abyss,' he names it, a bridge to that other place—and Hopper starts sketching a desperate plan involving a helicopter and a two-thousand-foot climb. Robin lets out a soft, knowing laugh. "Those rotors are forty feet wide," she says, shaking her head. "Too big. It won't fit." I groan, dro…